Tag: Contemporary Romance

Bryn sucked in a breath as she slid the tray, loaded with drinks, from the bar. Not making eye contact was the easy part, balancing glasses filled to the brim and weaving her way through the crowded room was more of a challenge.

Not upending the tray before she took her first step was an accomplishment. One handed may have been the preferred carrying technique, but with the weigh of her load, there was no way that was going to happen.

“Oh, and Bryn.” Sally flashed her a sympathetic smile. “It’d help if you breathe.” No doubt, she experienced a similar sense of dread on her first time entering the VIP section of the nightclub.

Open and exposed for all to see, as if royalty on display—to be admired—Reeves Walker and his partners in crime seemed oblivious to those around them.

There was no questioning Highfliers had filled the club’s legal quota of guests for the evening and doubled it. But that was on someone else’s head, all Bryn had to do was pick a path to her destination and hope her tray wasn’t sent flying by an uncoordinated dance move.

A few women dripped from the mostly male group. Perfectly made up faces and manicured finger nails, complimented designer clothes and sexy stiletto heels, like a trade mark, set those of the in-crowd apart from the clingers on.

Reeves Walker, like the show-stopping centerpiece was seated in the midst of the elite. White leather low line modular sofas, sleek and every bit as stylish as those seated upon it lined the walls, giving the vibe of seclusion and intimacy, in the busy club.

Designer labels weren’t exclusive to the women. The fit of a well-cut Armani suit emphasized what she could only imagine to be a ripped body many women had delighted in running their hands over. She didn’t have to be close to Reeves to imagine he smelt as expensive as he looked, splashed with a heady fragrance to compliment his charm.

He’d not long been settled with his four most regular buddies when the women began to descend. A slight nod of his head was enough of an invitation for them to step over the threshold and into the cream. Reeves Walker was like the delectable cherry on top.

Laced with poison Bryn couldn’t imagine why a woman with any common sense would willingly risk the allure, but, over the past two weeks of working the bar, she’d witnessed the game over again. Acceptance into the circle meant a ticket to his bed. His reputation wasn’t rumor. Practically every night he left with a different women, and Bryn doubted he was being hospitable and ensuring they arrived home safe. He was a free agent to entertain whoever he pleased, but what she couldn’t understand was the willingness of women who frequented the club in hope of becoming the next notch on his belt. Surely even they realized that Reeves Walker was the master player, and he lined them up like pawns.

The only alteration she wished he’d make to his practice was that he sat in a position other than the one he occupied, so he was more easily accessible when waited upon.

No sooner had she spied an opening in the crowd, making delivery of the drinks a possibility, was it filled by a couple too caught up in each other to realize they were a hindrance.

Just my luck. There was no longer an easy way of serving him first, at least, not without putting the tray down on the table in front of him.

Bryn weighed up her options, risk spilling a full tray of drinks into the club owners lap, or set it down and smear his precious glass topped table—the perfect surface for cutting and lining up cocaine. Not a grain of dust need be missed when snorting from the polished black top, not to mention the ego trip as consumers watched themselves ingest the powdery substance in it’s reflection.

She knew drugs, almost as intimately as the Lord and every trick in his book, having been exposed to a scene many would class as a disadvantage. Bryn saw it as a constant reminder of what she’d never become. Employed to serve drinks in a drug lords club wasn’t the worse she could do. The money she worked for was earned, even if it was dished out by the hands of one so cold and heartless.

Super model good looks with his chiseled jaw and rich as dark chocolate hair she’d enjoy nothing more than to rake her fingers through. He was the prize most women came to Highfliers in hope of winning. But not Bryn. A tough guy she could handle, even one so good-looking, it was the reptilian ice interior that was incapable of fulfilling her needs.

She needed this job, so her next move was important. Another glance confirmed there to be no easy way to get around the mobs, so the glass top it was.

Keeping her line of sight at shoe level, she slid her way between two women, who were clearly absorbed in the men seated on their opposite side, and set the tray down.

A gasp from the woman to her left, despite the blaring music, caused attention like a spotlight on a solo act.

Bryn glanced up, jade green eyes, as mesmerizing as any drug he offered, met her gaze and held. Her lips parted and before giving any thought as to who she was addressing, she smiled. “Seems you already had a shower, I didn’t think you’d appreciate a stick mess in your lap.” Alternative meanings popped into her head as soon as the words escaped her mouth. She diverted her eyes, remembering Sally’s caution only moments earlier, but not before witnessing a smile tease the corner of his lips.

Swiping a cardboard coaster from the stack on her tray, she set it down on the pristine surface and placed his scotch on top. The order in which the drinks had been positioned so they made it to their rightful owner, no longer made sense. Since breaking the eye contact rule, she was certain her position as a waitress was currently up for grabs. A few mixed up drinks could do her no more damage so she dished them out as quickly as possible.

Before turning away, she stole another glance at Reeves. He was watching her, green eyes pierced the outer layer and she clenched to her core under his scrutiny. It wasn’t any wonder staff weren’t permitted to look him in the eye. This man possessed the ability to be the undoing of even the toughest of dealers; she’d be like a midnight snack to him.

She shuddered, sexy he may be, but the cruel dangerous reputation was enough to chill the warmth from her blood. With her head held high, and the deliberate sway of her hips with each step she took, Bryn walked over to where Sally stood watching her. “If I finish the night, do I still get paid?” She placed the tray on top of the bar and folded her arms across her chest.

If Sally weren’t her mentor, Bryn would’ve been intimidated under her constant watch.

With head tipped back, Sally let out a loud burst of laughter. “When his Lordship has a hard time fighting back a smile, from what was the most average delivery of drinks I’ve ever seen, I’d say you might have earned yourself immunity.”

“But I looked him in the eye.”

Sally picked up the tray from the bar and wiped it clean with a damp cloth. “You call that looking him in the eye?” She shook her head. “Honey, you all but ogled him.” Laughter followed as she handed the tray back to Bryn. “My bet is, before the night is through, you’ll be Reeves Walker’s requested waitress.” She turned to walk away, then stopped. “And, Bryn, that’s exactly where you want to be.” She winked, before attending to a waiting customer.

I had a lot of fun writing Bryn and Reeves’ story and hope you enjoyed the beginning of their little adventure.

Mommy’s Boy ~ Blog post

On time and as good-looking as his photographs promised, Tim was waiting on the steps inside and to the right of the cinema complex as planned.

When he suggested a romantic comedy as a good way to end a busy week, I jumped at the chance. Rom-coms are my movie genre of choice, and the week had indeed been busy, Craze wholly and solely responsible for my lack of sleep. Besides, a movie first date had me beating that not much could go wrong. If personality matched his online persona, there may be a second date in me despite my insecurities of being replaced by the next one on his list of matches.

As much as I hate to admit, it was as much an addiction as I expected it to be—swiping late into the night and chatting to random strangers, mostly about the weather, or how busy our lives are. Scheduling dates with some, whilst others seemed keen to linger in the chat room. Most of my matches appeared too good to be true and more adventurous and exciting than a superhero.

The thing that I can’t really understand, about the contenders on the site, is that everyone seem to live complete lives, not really in need for more. How they intend to fit a significant other into their full and exciting life seemed a challenge that didn’t add up to possibility in the measly twenty four hours granted each day.

A cold Friday night saw to the cinemas being a popular choice of entertainment, so how close people were standing, jam-packed and waiting in lines to enter theatres, or to purchase tickets or food at the candy bar, didn’t strike me as strange. That was until I approached and saw that the older woman smooched up against Tim wasn’t only standing close, but her arm was linked with his.

I know I wore a frown as I approached, but unless he failed to disclose that he was a siamese twin with a much older female look alike, then he had some explaining to do.

“Molly.” He greeted me as if an old friend, smile wide and endearing, and held his free hand out for me to grasp, which, as if on autopilot, I did.

His grip was tight as he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. The attachment to his arm leaned also, enabling him to close the distance. “This is my mom, Sian. When I told her about you she was so excited that she insisted on meeting you, so here she is.”

I smiled to be polite, but, seriously, was this guy for real?

Sian certainly didn’t look excited to see me. Her face as sour as if she sucked a unripened plum.

“Nice to meet you.” There was no point hiding the obvious. A first date was hardly the time to venture so far as meeting the parents. Instantly, sex on a first date seemed an appropriate option after all.

It wasn’t any wonder this guy was still on the shelf if his handbag insisted on attending all outings. And, if that were the case, he could very well be the only thirty year old guy with a gunning chance of being a virgin. Not that a lack of experience appeals to me, merely an observation.

Tim glanced at his mother when she failed to respond and gave her a little nudge, which initiated a forced smile and, likewise.

I wanted to turn and run, but I didn’t have the guts with the likes of Sian on my tail. Her piercing eyes were enough to freeze my soul in a heartbeat.

Super excited, and a little nervous, to share with you, Bryn and Reeves’ story…I hope you love it!

How do you tame a drug lord when dealing is all he’s ever known?
Bryn Evans may seem like the new waitress in town, but truth is, she’s been around the block for years.
Rich, sexy, and wildly untameable, Reeves Walker might appear to be everything a woman wants, but for now all Bryn wants is to keep her enemies close and their enemies even closer.
But, how close is too close when dealing with one so dangerously sexy as Reeves Walker?

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My favourite part about writing The Pact was developing the relationships between three women, Flic, Mim and Lacey. Strong and lasting friendships are as rare as true love, and I loved exploring the dynamics between these three. The banter between them in Chapter Seven was my favourite scene to write…hope you enjoy this snippet…

❤ Brenna x

Chapter Seven

Flic found Mim sitting in the restaurant reading what she recognised to be one of Dave’s books.

Not wanting to disturb her, she walked over to the table as quietly as possible. Mim almost jumped out of her seat when she glanced up and saw Flic approach.

“Sorry—he certainly knows how to drag you into the thick of the story.”

“That he does.”

“He was one of my favourite authors.”

“Was?” Mim arched one eyebrow. Flic was fascinated how she managed to do so voluntarily, having tried many times and failed as both eyebrows insisted on going up together.

“Well, still is I suppose. But, now I’ve met him—” she didn’t continue, instead shrugged.

Mim frowned. “There’s more to him than you realise.” Closing her book she placed it on the table, Dave’s image facing up. “Don’t be too quick to judge him, women always do. There was a lot of truth in what Doris said the other night, even if she was out of line.”

“I’m sorry. He irritates me, which isn’t fair because I don’t know him.” Flic stopped. She shouldn’t be discussing Dave with Mim, they were obviously close and not much she had to say about him was positive. “He’s a brilliant storyteller.”

“Yes, but I’d like to hear more about how he irritates you. Why do you think that is?”

“Because once he’s in my head he occupies too much space.”

Mim smirked. “Sometimes they call that something else.”

Lacey burst through the door. “Sorry I’m late.”

Flic wished she’d been a few minutes later so she could find out what Mim was referring to, although she doubted she’d elaborate. Again, Dave was clouding her head, and it didn’t help that his sister was pulling up a seat, talking none stop about Dave this and Dave that. Flic wanted to put her forehead on the table and bang until something other than Dave occupied her thoughts.

Mim laughed at her, and Flic wondered if she’d guessed where her mind was at.

Lacey stopped. “What’s so funny?”

“Maybe you should ask Flic, from the look on her face I imagine she has a lot of something going on in her mind. Perhaps she could elaborate for us.” Mim stood up, not bothering to conceal her laughter. “Can I get you anything before we start?”

“I’m sorry can someone explain what’s going on, I’m confused.” Lacey slumped back into her chair waiting for someone to fill her in.

Flic shook her head. “Nothing, honestly.”

Carrying a tray holding drinks and plates of food over to the table, Mim’s laughter turned to a giggle. “Flic’s got the hots for Dave,” she teased.

“Very mature Mim.”

Lacey beamed. “Oh, I hoped you did.”

“Lacey it’s not true, she’s joking.”

“I think there’s chemistry, and even denial can’t change that.”

“Oh yeah, the type of chemistry they use to construct nuclear bombs. The only possible outcome is an explosive disaster. We came here to talk about work, although I imagine Dave wouldn’t be anything less than a challenge.” Flic regretted the comment as soon as she said it. “I’m sorry Lacey, that wasn’t fair.”

“No it wasn’t.” Lacey only able to keep a straight face for a moment, released a loud burst of laughter.

“You two are cruel.” Flic picked up one of the bottles of pink grapefruit juice, opened the lid and took a long swig.

“Is your novel a romance? You’ve found the perfect leading man, broody and mysterious I think you called him.” Mim continued to tease, but Lacey stopped laughing.

“You write?”

Fabulous. Flic rolled her eyes, liking the Dave topic better than the current one.

“Not really.”

“Yes she does, every day. I can’t wait to read it.” Mim said, removing the cling wrap from the antipasto platters she’d made up earlier, and then emptied a bag of salted peanuts into a bowl.

“What are you trying to do to me, Mim?” Flic didn’t want to continue the discussion, at least not with Lacey. As if she didn’t feel intimidated by Dave enough already. What would he think when he learned of her ridiculous dream of becoming a writer.

“You should join the critique group Dave facilitates.”

“Lacey, Mim’s over generous as usual, I merely dabble. I’m not in your brother’s league and doubt I’ll ever be.”

“You sell yourself short. Besides some of the members haven’t written more than an email. It’s not for professional writers, he helps people who want to tell a story and to do it well.”

“That’s kind of him, but I don’t think my writing, or self-esteem is ready for critique yet.”

“Okay suit yourself, but keep it in mind I’ve been a few times and it’s actually helpful.”

“You write too?”

“Only Poetry.”

“Only a poet would say only poetry.” Flic had tried it as a means of self-expression, but instead wasted her time on an emotional mash of words not suitable to share with anyone.

“Well ladies as much as the writing world fascinates me, from a readers perspective anyway, we open in fifteen minutes,” Mim announced, serious for the first time since they arrived.

“Of course, this shouldn’t take long, you have Flic Friday, Saturday and Sunday evenings, yes?”

“Yep, when do you want her?” Mim smirked. Obviously there was more going on in her head than she was willing to share.

“How does Tuesday and Thursday work for you Flic?”

“Suits me.”

“Too easy, and you’ll still have time to write, and fantasize over Dave.” Mim roared with laughter as she stood and walked away, taking her drink with her. “I’ve got a call to make, see you tonight Lacey.”